Only in Dreams
by schwartzibrow
Summary: Mia's in love with guy, but will a vivid dream rock her world? Read and review. Please.
1. Bernina

**DISCLAIMER: MEG CABOT OWNS ALL CHARACTERS, WEEZER OWN 'ONLY IN DREAMS'**

**Note: Due to the policy of not using song lyrics we have not written ourselves, we are removing the lyrics to 'Only in Dreams' from the start of the chapter. If you would like to see how the lyrics fit with the story, please Google them.**

Two superpowers have come together to bring you this story. We shan't reveal our names (though we've both written other PD fan fics) just know that we're alternating writing chapters for this story. Weezer owns the song 'Only in Dreams'.

* * *

I really hate my life.

Seriously.

It's not bad enough that I'm flunking freshman Algebra, I'm a human skyscraper, and my feet look like built-in snowshoes. Oh, and I'm princess of a whole country (the only good thing is, it's across the ocean. Which means I don't have to walk around in a tiara knighting things with my scepter at school. Ew, how weird would that be?)

My best friend Lilly says I exaggerate way too much. And that I need to stop writing in my diary all the time and maybe tell my feelings to a real person, like her, for instance.

And, okay, it's so not a diary. It's a journal. Or a lengthy log of my pathetic life. Whatever. And it is like a real person. I even have a name for it: Bernina. I haven't told Lilly this, which I guess lends to her argument.

But there are a lot of things that I cannot, under any circumstances, reveal to Lilly, even if we have been best friends since first grade. Because even life-long friends can't understand my predicament. God, I ask for the thousandth time, WHY ME!

Michael Moscovitz doesn't believe in God. He told me that the other day. Or at least, he put it in his webzine, Crackhead. I think Michael thinks it below him to talk to freshmen, even though he does discuss the latest episode of Buffy with me sometimes. I guess Crackhead is to Michael like my journal is to me. Except a ton of people read it. I would totally die of mortification if anyone ever laid a hand on my journal. Then they would all know the truth.

I didn't rob a bank or shoot someone, if that's what you're thinking. But it feels even worse than that. Like…like my grandmother ran over me multiple times with a bulldozer whilst lecturing me on how to say, "Waiter, this soup is unsatisfactory" in seven different languages. In her code, that means "God, this tastes like crap!" I have a feeling if I said it that way, though, she would be inclined to actually pull out the old bulldozer.

Grandmere might just hate my guts. I'm her only granddaughter and all, but you can totally tell that she'd bury me alive if I weren't destined to rule her country. Which, by the way, I think scares her to death. If only.

God, I have a knack for getting off-topic. Which is about the only thing I have a knack for. Lilly's, like, this brilliant public speaker. Michael is…well, perfect. I mean, he has major skills with the computer and even plays the guitar. Writes his own songs and everything. I probably shouldn't have written that. He swore me to secrecy.

But me? I've got nothing. Nada. Zip. "Poor Mia," everyone probably says, when I stroll past (probably tripping over something), "She's just so…blah."

At least that's what they used to say about me, before the whole princess thing happened. Now they're considerate enough to lower their voices while gossiping about me. I guess that's a perk in their somewhere.

Back to my secret. There's this guy. And he's got the most beautiful eyes _ever_, with those gorgeous smoky lashes and a sexy pout.

It's obvious, isn't it? I mean, you've probably already figured out who it was. There's no point in trying to hide it, is there? Well, in Lilly's case, yeah. Because if she knew…oh, God. I don't even want to think about it.

Lilly knows what happened last time I totally fell for a senior. I got completely humiliated in front of the entire student population of Albert Einstein High School. Thank God for Michael. He showed up and spent the rest of the night dancing with me. I guess Michael can be a pretty nice guy when he wants to be. I went from total mortification that night to having a cute boy's arms around me. The fact that I find Michael attractive is another thing I can't tell Lilly, as she is Michael's little sister. Unfortunately, she didn't inherit the 'total babe' gene. But she's pretty in her own way. And…_she_ has a boyfriend. Which is a lot more than I can say. But Lilly has boobs. Oh, and she's really cool and talented.

The Moscovitzes really cleaned up, didn't they? If only God (yeah, I believe. Who else do you think I pray to every night for Justin Baxendale's affections?) had been a little kinder when dishing out the old traits. I got…height and the whole royalty thing. Neither of which are very awesome. But maybe He thought so. Urgh…whatever.

It's just…if there's one thing I want most in the world, it's not even an end to world hunger (which is totally important to me and all, but I'm kind of self-absorbed at times), it's for Justin to maybe look me straight in the eye one day (did I already mention that he has really great eyes? Michael has nice eyes too. Warm and soft and totally insightful. I've never mentioned this to Lilly, of course) and say something like, "My darling, my soul mate, my shining star! Be mine, sweet Mia, or I shall perish alone, never having witnessed the divine taste of your cherubic lips upon my own," or something like that.

But Justin would probably sooner flush his Gameboy down the toilet (He takes it everywhere. Seriously. It's like Michael and his laptop. I've seen Michael sing to his computer before. Quite scary, though his voice is super nice) than even think about making out with me. I say probably because I'm a hopeless dreamer. Unless, you know, he did find me the tiniest bit attractive. But that's impossible, of course, as Justin is already stalked by most of the female population of my high school.

School was hell, as usual, today. Mr. G gave some exhaustive lecture on just why algebra matters in real life, after some idiot complained about last night's hefty load of homework. You should see Mr. G, though. It's like an old grandfather trying to hook up two kids he knows are 'just meant for each other.' I tried to listen, but it all kind of jumbled together after a few minutes. So I doodled 'Princess Orlando Bloom' in my journal over and over again. I know, it's not technically correct or whatever, but God, he has a gorgeous name.

P.E. Why is it that students have to attend so many classes that have absolutely no point at all? All we do in physical education is dress out in the tacky uniform, walk around the gym for an hour (fearing for our lives all the while as the basketball team aims and misses far too many goals), and try to sneak back into the locker room, where we can talk or do our homework safely. But today, Coach Williams was ahead of us. Lilly and I made a run for the locker room door when he wasn't looking, only to find it locked. A cackling echoed across the gym and I turned to see Coach Williams clutching his side. Then he made the whole class go outside and run laps around the track. If looks could kill, Lilly and I would be dead in two seconds from some of the glares the other girls were shooting us. It's certainly not my fault that the coach had a mental breakdown. Geez.

Perfection arrived during fifth period, in the form of Michael Moscovitz. It was about time too, as I'd just spent all of lunch transfixed on the large piece of broccoli caught in Boris' retainer. Just, _ew_.

But Michael strolled into the room confidently (I'd be pretty damn sure of myself too, if I had all that going for me) and came to sit down by me. He just tutors me in Algebra, though. I've never seen anyone get so pissy about organization, especially not a guy. but it's totally worthwhile when his knee brushes up against mine. Not that I care that much. Now if it were Justin's knee…

But there are some definite perks in my life, not enough to make up for the general suckiness, but still. For one, Michael has a tendency for taking off his shirt. Not at school, of course (though how cool would that be? He and Josh Richter could totally compare in the middle of the commons), but in the privacy of his home (where I spend a ton of my time, having no other life really).

And believe me, it's a fantastic sight.

I wonder what Justin's chest looks like.

Argh. Must go, Michael's flipping out over integers. But he's strangely adorable when angry. Not that that matters to me at all.

* * *

Okay, the plot develops more next chapter. This was kind of opener that I got carried away with. You know what to do now. And no, it's not walk your dog or take out the trash or any crazy chore like that. Who would WANT to do chores? I mean, seriously.

Review, for the love of Michael.


	2. Shirtless

You know what the best thing about having a mild, totally platonic crush on your best friend's brother is? Seeing him walk around the house shirtless. Seriously, he does it ALL the time here at the Moscovitz's.

Lilly and I were just sitting in her parents' bed watching 'Lilly Tells It Like It Is' when Michael comes in.

"Hey, Thermopolis," he said.

"Hey, Michael," I replied, though more to his chest than to his face.

But then Lilly had to go and spoil it by saying, "What do you want, doofus?"

"Jeez, Lil, I just though I'd hang out with you guys. But if that's a problem, I can leave..."

"You don't have to leave, Michael," I blurted before I could stop myself. Have I mentioned how big my mouth can be sometimes? Lilly glared at me. "What?" I asked her. "He can stay. We're only watching TV."

"Thanks, Thermopolis. At least I know I can always count on you." He grabbed a chair from the corner of the room and dragged it right next to my side of the bed! How am I supposed to concentrate on watching TV when this shirtless god is sitting RIGHT NEXT TO ME???

It's just too bad that this particular episode of 'Lilly Tells It Like It Is' had us running around the streets like morons. Very mature, I'm sure. Why did I have to ask him to stay to watch it? Why? My only consolation is that at least it's not Justin Baxendale sitting next to me.

"Nice show, Thermopolis," Michael said once it was over.

"Uh, thanks..."

"Um, excuse me?" Lilly interrupted. "It's actually MY show. All Mia did was run around like a headless chicken and a bit of the camera work."

Thanks, Lilly.

"Whatever," Michael replied. "But you pulled the running away bit off nicely, Mia."

How red can a person blush? Seriously, I must have set the new record for it.

"Oh please," Lilly groaned, though I'm not sure why. "Michael, can you please get out of here now? I have to talk to Mia alone."

Michael raised his eyebrows at me, I giggled.

"Now, Michael!" Lilly cried.

"Ok, ok, calm down, I'm leaving."

To my dismay, he left. But not before winking at me as he shut the door. It was probably only a "My sister is an idiot" wink though. He seems to do that a lot.

If I knew how to wink, I'd have winked back, but sadly I always end up blinking or screwing my eyes up instead. It's just another one of my biological defects. It really sucks to be me sometimes. Or all the time, I haven't really made up my mind yet.

"What's up, Lilly?" I asked her.

"You. You're always... weird whenever my brother enters a room. What's up with that?" She doesn't KNOW does she? That I find her brother mildly, ok, more than mildly, attractive, I mean. She'd better not. I'm always so careful whenever I'm around Michael to make it not seem obvious that I'm somewhat warm for his form, but it's so hard sometimes. Especially when he smiles at me and I feel giddy, or when he accidentally touches me and it sends a shiver up my spine. Who can control themselves at those times? And I'll tell you, if it was Justin Baxendale it'd be even harder to control myself. So I think having a bit of self control around Michael is better than nothing.

"I have no idea what you are talking about." Are my nostrils flaring?

"Whatever. Let's just go watch a movie in the den. And Michael is NOT watching it with us, ok?"

Damn. "Like I even care if he did, Lilly."

"Sure you don't."

So I walked into the den to find a movie to watch while Lilly made popcorn.

She returned a few minutes later with a bowl. "So what are we watching?"

"Princess Bride?"

"Sounds good to me."

"Sounds good to me too."

I spun around to see Michael sit himself down on the couch, right next to the seat I always sit in.

"No, Michael, you are not watching this with us. Go away."

"Aw, come on, Lilly, I love this movie."

"Not as much as other things," Lilly hinted, probably meaning his laptop.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing. Just go away."

"As you wish," Michael said to her, although I couldn't help but notice he was looking at me. I don't know why though, since he was talking to his sister. Michael left us alone to watch the movie. And I didn't even try to stop him. I wanted to, believe me. But I thought better of it. My life has enough dramas in it already without adding to it by letting Lilly know about Michael. Because she'd no doubt tell Michael, and then I'd just DIE! Lilly fell asleep before the end of the movie; it wasn't even that late. But I guess she wore herself out with all the kicking Michael out.

Just as I was picking up all the popcorn that had fallen out of the bowl when Lilly dropped it, Michael graced me with his presence; he stood at the doorway watching.

"Uh, sorry, Michael, Lilly dropped it, but I'm picking it up."

"Don't stress, Thermopolis. If the butter stains we'll cover it with a rug. It's all good."

He bent down and helped me pick it up, Lilly didn't move.

"Thanks," I said when it was all picked up.

"No problem. And look, no butter stains. So what are you going to do now that Miss Cranky here has fallen asleep?"

"Um, I guess I'll try to put her in bed and then go to sleep myself."

"Why don't you just leave her here for a minute, I want to show you something."

He wanted to show me something??? I had visions of what fabulous things he could mean as he guided me down the hall to his bedroom.

I'd only ever been in his bedroom once before, that was after the 

Cultural 

Diversity Dance when he showed me his guitar and played his awesome song 

'Tall Drink of Water' for me. Well not FOR me, it wasn't about me or anything, but he played it and I listened.

"I wrote a new song," he said, sitting on his bed and picking up his guitar.

"Cool, can you play it for me?"

"That's why you're here."

Of course. Why else would he want me to come into his bedroom and shut the door?

"It's called, 'Shirtless.'"

He started playing, it was nice. Not as nice as 'Tall Drink of Water' but still good. This one was about liking a girl but not feeling like you're good enough for her. The lyrics were very good, they had so many levels.

"Did you like it?" he asked once he was finished.

"Yeah, it was great! How do you write such good lyrics?"

"Oh, well, I like to use the technique they tell you to use. You know, the 'Write what you know' technique. It works well."

So it's real. Great. I bet it's about Judith Gershner. She's so Michael's type. I heard she's trying to clone a fruit fly in her bedroom! Seriously.

"Right, yeah..."

"What's going on here?" Lilly asked at the doorway. Michael quickly covered his guitar with his blankets. I don't think she saw it.

"Uh, we were just talking, Lil, that's all," I said quickly.

"Yeah, it's not a crime is it? I was just keeping your friend company since you'd passed out."

"I did not pass out. I was just resting my eyes!" Lilly cried.

"Whatever. You were out like a light so I thought I'd entertain Mia."

"Well I'm awake now, so come on, Mia, let's go to bed." I followed her without question.

She's fallen asleep again, I guess I should go to sleep too. Maybe in the morning Michael will forget to tie his robe so that I can still see his chest.

Maybe he will play me another song too.


	3. No Way, Buddy

[Here's where things start to get nifty. Enjoy.]

Things are certainly looking up.

I was laying on the Moscovitzes' couch with my eyes closed, listening to the sounds of Maya making pancakes in the kitchen. But then I felt something brush against my shoulder. I jumped up and shrieked, thinking it was a roach or something. After carefully opening my eyes, though, I saw Michael Moscovitz perched on the edge of the couch, looking at me as one might view an interesting animal in the zoo. "Is everything all right, Thermopolis?"

I sat beside him, feeling quite embarrassed over the whole incident. "Uh, yeah. You just kind of freaked me out."

He smiled and touched my cheek. "Sorry about that."

His hand remained there, though, until Maya called us to breakfast. I followed Michael to the kitchen, a little perturbed. But happy too. It's not every day a girl gets awoken by her crush (aside from the hysterics) and then _touched _by him. Michael's hands are super-soft though, and his fingers are long and beautiful. They probably get a lot of exercise, with him playing the guitar all the time and all.

Michael sat down at the kitchen table and eagerly shoveled pancakes into his mouth, ignoring a reproving look from Maya. "_Small_ bites, Mr. Michael," she said, shaking her head. He grudgingly picked up his knife and sliced the pancakes into smaller portions.

"So, Mia," he said, swallowing a mouthful. But right at that moment, Lilly walked into the room, her hair looking particularly frizzy and out-of-control.

"Do you really need all of that, Michael?" she asked with an arched brow, as Maya set another plate down in front of him. Lilly's one to talk. I mean, she's my friend and all, but she so does not have the abs of Michael. Lilly sat down at her own plate and eagerly explained the episode of Lilly Tells It Like It Is that we were filming that day, in which we were apparently going to attempt to convince passersby that we're deaf with some sort of ridiculous sign-language Lilly made up. Bring. It. On.

I don't have attention-deficit disorder or anything, but it was seriously hard to listen to Lilly. It's all Michael's fault, though, not mine. He kept smiling at me the whole meal, and brushing his bare foot up against mine. I just kind of looked down at my plate, the color rising in my cheeks. 

I got up to rinse my plate. "I'm going to go get my jacket, Lil, and then I'll be ready to go."

She nodded and I walked out of the room, grabbing my jean jacket from Lilly's room. I was heading back to the kitchen, when someone jumped out and pushed me into the closet, shutting the door behind us. 

It was pitch-black inside, but before I could say a word, I felt these lips pressed up against mine. Don't get me wrong, I was freaked out and everything. But the kiss felt _good_. My attacker slipped his (I assumed it was a boy) hand around my waist. 

So here I was, in the Moscovitzes' hall closet, making out with some guy I couldn't even see. His _tongue_ was in my _mouth_. But I still wasn't saying anything, until his hand slipped under my shirt and then I was all, "No way, buddy" and I kneed him in the groin. Because that's what you're supposed to do to rapists, right? Even ones who can kiss marvelously. Otherwise I'd end up like those teenage mothers on Dateline.

"Agh! What the hell, Mia!" the guy said. I opened the door and he fell out of the closet, his face screwed up in pain. "What was that for?"

And then I saw who the pervert was. Michael Moscovitz. I had been making out with Michael Moscovitz in his closet. And…Oh. My. God. I kicked him in the balls. He must hate my guts. "Oh, God, Michael! I'm so sorry!" I squeaked, and then I hurried back down the hall to Lilly. Things always seem to be a bit clearer around Lilly, even when we are pulling insane stunts for her public access show.

"Lilly?" I finally spoke up. We were standing underneath a tree in the park, a cool breeze blowing past. Lilly wiggled her hands around as an elderly couple passed. They stared at her and quickened their step.

"Yeah?"

"Uh, is your brother feeling all right?"

"What do you mean?"

I shivered and pulled my jacket a little tighter. "He was just acting a little strange this morning."

"Are you talking about the closet incident?" Dammit. Does Lilly always have to know everything that goes on in her house? I guess it's better than me actually having to tell her though.

"Yeah, you heard about that?"

"Well, I followed him when he left the kitchen and saw him dive at you. And then I heard his squeal of pain and talked to him after you scurried out of there. He didn't say much, but he had that look of total agony that boys tend to get when their lower region's been attacked."

I stared. How could she be so matter-of-fact about all of this? One: her brother practically raped me. Two: This was her brother, kissing me, in a closet. And Three: Why the hell was Michael kissing me?

"So what happened?" Lilly asked, performing some strange shuffle routine as a woman and her two-year old passed, looking as if she desperately wanted them to understand something. The toddler watched avidly but his mother pulled him away, looking daggers at us.

"Um, he kissed me?"

"And that's a problem, why?"

"God, who kidnapped Lilly? Michael sexually assaulted me and that's all you have to say?"

Lilly looked highly amused. "I wouldn't say he sexually assaulted you. But the closet thing is a bit tacky."

I left Lilly an hour later, still quite bewildered. At home, I put in my OK Go CD and went to the computer to check my email. There was a message from Michael:

Cracking 

** Mia, I'm seriously sorry about what happened this morning. Don't know what came over me. But is there something wrong? Because you've never freaked out like that before. At least not about kissing. Call me when you get home and we'll talk. Hope you had a good time with Lilly, or at least didn't get arrested.**

****

**Love, Michael.**

****

I stared at the screen as my jaw dropped to the floor. Love? LOVE?!

[Hehehe. I know what's going on, do you? Review and give your opinion.]


	4. As You Wish

I am FREAKING OUT!!! Since when does Michael Moscovitz love me??? Since when does he even like me?  
  
Okay, I'm over-reacting. He must have just meant a platonic love, right? Like, he loves me like a sister since I'm his sister's best friend and we've grown up together. That's all it was. I'm sure of it.  
  
But then what was with the kissing and the groping in the closet? And what did he mean by 'you've never freaked out before'? Before when? He's certainly never pulled me into a closet and done THAT before! I think I'd remember something like that.  
  
And now he wants me to call him? Why would I call him? I've never called him before. I mean, I've called the Moscovitz's plenty of times and spoken to him briefly, but I've never called for him. Yet he wrote it as if I do it everyday.  
  
Deciding to ignore his request to call, I signed off the computer without replying.  
  
"Mia! Phone call!" I heard mom call out to me a few hours later. I was lying on my bed thinking about Michael. I do this a lot, but usually I don't have the mental pictures of his lips being up against mine. This is new. This is nice.  
  
"Hello?" I answered, thinking it would be Lilly telling me I'd forgotten something at her place.  
  
"Hey, Mia," my heart stopped. Oh, it was a Moscovitz alright. But not the one I'd been expecting.  
  
"Uh... um, hi," I stumbled out.  
  
"Is everything okay? You never called me," he sounded hurt.  
  
"S-sure, I guess. Why?"  
  
"Well you freaked out this morning; you didn't seem like your usual self."  
  
I didn't seem like my usual self? What about him? And what does he mean anyway? Would my usual self not kick him in the groin if he tried to feel me up?  
  
"So can I take you out tonight to make it up to you?" he asked.  
  
I know the guy assaulted me this morning, and I know he's acting uber-creepy right now, but can I just take a moment to revel in the fact that MICHAEL MOSCOVITZ JUST ASKED ME OUT?!?  
  
So now what do I say?  
  
"Sure." What else am I supposed to say? No? Yeah, I don't think so.  
  
"Great. I'll come pick you up in about an hour, can Lars be there?"  
  
"Okay. I'll call Lars."  
  
My palms were sweating as I hung up the phone and dialed Lars.  
  
I'm going on a DATE with Michael Moscovitz! What am I going to wear what am I going to say to him?  
  
After arranging things with Lars, I walked into the kitchen and found mom.  
  
"I'm going out in about an hour, okay, mom?"  
  
"Sure, honey. You going out with Michael?" she asked.  
  
"Yeah... How did you know that?"  
  
"Who else would it have been on the phone? Have fun, but don't forget to call Lars."  
  
Now mom is acting weird. What's up with everyone?  
  
"Hey, Mia," Michael said when I opened the door an hour later. He leaned in a kissed me on the cheek. "I hope you won't injure me for doing that."  
  
I shook my head dumbly. There he goes again with the kissing!  
  
"You look great, are you ready to go?"  
  
"Sure, Lars is downstairs."  
  
We started walking down the stairs in silence, and then Michael grabbed my hand and held it. "I'm really sorry about earlier, Mia. If I upset you or whatever. Maybe a closet wasn't the most romantic place to be, but I just can't help myself sometimes."  
  
I nodded as if I understood what he was talking about. But I have no idea.  
  
"So, um, where are we going?" I asked once the limo had moved off.  
  
"The screening room is showing The Princess Bride, I though we'd go see that."  
  
"Well, I saw that movie last night, but okay."  
  
"What? No you didn't. We watched Star Wars last night. We haven't seen Princess Bride in ages."  
  
"Huh?" I'm sure me and Lilly watched Princess Bride last night.  
  
"It doesn't matter. If you don't want to watch it we can do something else. Or I can just take you home." He looked at me with puppy dog eyes. Seriously, Michael was using puppy dog eyes with me!  
  
"No, that's okay. I'll see it."  
  
"As you wish," he said, leaning over and kissing me on the cheek.  
  
Lars sat opposite us and looked out the window. Is he not as confused as I am about why Michael is acting like this? Why doesn't he knee Michael in the groin for kissing me? Or do I have to protect myself?  
  
Wait, why do I even want to protect myself from Michael and his lips? They're so soft and nice, and they feel especially nice when pressed against my own. Maybe I shouldn't fight this anymore.  
  
So I'm not fighting it anymore.  
  
Michael and I are sitting side by side in the darkened room, Lars is standing against the wall a few feet away, and Michael and I are making out. Yes, that's right, we're making out.  
  
Did I mention before just how good of a kisser Michael is? Because he is. How can I resist? How can I not kiss him back?  
  
I have no idea what is making him even want to kiss me, but right now I don't care. He can do it as much as he likes.  
  
"Ahem, excuse me."  
  
We pulled apart as a waitress put some drinks on our table.  
  
"Thanks," Michael muttered as she walked away shaking her head, probably wondering why people pay to see a movie in the Screening Room if they're not even going to watch the film or eat the meal. Believe me, I'm wondering it too.  
  
"Uh, should we eat now?" I asked nervously.  
  
"If you'd rather eat than do this, then sure. Let's eat," he winked at me.  
  
We ate for a few minutes, but then Michael seemed to enjoy the taste of my neck better and we discarded the food. And we didn't watch any of the rest of the movie either. 

[Are you smarter than Mia? Do you know what's happened?

Teaser lines for next chapter:

I opened the door and my eyes widened in horror. Michael was laying on his bed...making out...with another girl. That wasn't me. Okay, why is it that just when I get used to kissing him he has to go find someone else? Am I that bad?

Finally, my presence was acknowledged and they both sat up, the girl discreetly buttoning her shirt. "Hey, Mia," Michael said softly, his cheeks brilliantly red. 

"Who's this?" I whispered hoarsely.

The girl smiled and stuck out her hand, apparently oblivious as to how awkward the situation was. "I'm Schwartzibrow."

Hee. Now aren't you eagerly awaiting Ch. 5? I know I am.]


	5. Making the Best of It

[Just so you know, those teaser lines last chapter weren't the real deal. I was just being odd and random. Anyway, enjoy!]

We exited the Screening Room, holding hands. I wasn't quite sure if Michael had been sniffing markers or something, but I didn't say anything. Lars followed a bit behind us, whistling the Genovian anthem.

"Want to go get ice cream or something?" Michael asked. I looked back at Lars and he nodded.

"Sure." Michael smiled and squeezed my hand. But just outside of the ice cream parlor, we ran smack dab into Kenny Showalter, my Biology partner.

Kenny eyes were wide and his skin pale. "M-Mia!" he croaked, taking a step back.

"Um. Hey, Kenny." Another person acting like a complete weirdo? I really couldn't take this any more. "What's up?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all. Sorry for bothering you!" he scurried off, leaving me to stare after him in total bewilderment.

"What's with Kenny?" I asked Michael.

He shrugged. "He's always a little weird around us."

_Us? _I pondered that word happily as we entered the ice cream parlor. Michael headed to the counter to get 'the usual,' while I found a booth and Lars sat at the kiddie table by the door. Michael came back with a scoop of mint chocolate chip for himself and Rocky Road for me. I seriously love this guy. And even stranger yet, he seems to love me back. Or at least seriously like me. Then I remembered the Kenny thing and picked up the conversation. "Why's that?"

"Why's Kenny weird? I don't know, ask his mother." He gave me a lopsided grin. "Sorry. I guess he's still mad that you broke up with him for me."

"Wait, _what_? When the heck did I date Kenny?" And if I broke up with Kenny for Michael, does that mean I'm dating Michael? I feel like Rip Van Winkle, for Christ's sake.

Michael raised his eyebrows. "Are you joking?" He took my hand in his and laughed. "Were you trying to block out the bad memories?"

"No, I'm serious. I never dated Kenny Showalter. Ew!"

Now he looked concerned, though. "Mia, are you feeling all right?" He pressed a warm hand against my forehead. "Do you need to lie down?"

"No, I don't need to lie down!" I took my hand out of his and put my head in my hands, closing my eyes. What was with everyone? Was this supposed to be some huge prank? I guess it was quite nice of Michael to volunteer for the making-out portion, but seriously. How cruel can you get? Concocting this whole lie. Making me believe that Michael liked me! All for some stupid prank.

But when I opened my eyes again, Michael wasn't laughing. He came around to sit on my side of the booth and put his arm around me. "You okay?" he asked, pressing his forehead up against mine.

I swallowed and nodded. Whatever this was, Michael didn't seem clued in. So I wasn't going to freak him out. I'd just relax and think about all this later.

Michael pressed his cool lips up against mine.

Much later.

The limo pulled up to the Moscovitzes' Monday morning. I sat inside, kind of eagerly anticipating Michael's arrival. I'd come to a decision the day before. I wasn't going to act weird any more. Michael was under the strange delusion that he loved me, so who was I to stop him from expressing that love? Obviously, something strange was going on. But it was also quite wonderful. So I was going to revel in that.

Michael hopped in the limo and kissed my cheek before Lilly crawled in after him. "You all right, Mia?" he asked, scooting closer to me.

"I'm fine."

"Good," he said, flashing a quick smile. "I'm glad to hear it. Now let's go over your homework."

I pulled it out of my bag and Michael stared. "What is this?"

"What's what?" I asked. I swore I had understood what we were doing this time.

"Uh, you guys did this stuff ages ago. Mia, you're the top of the class in Algebra. What's the matter?"

A swell of laughter bubbled up inside my chest, but the expression on Michael's face killed it. He was really serious. "I…don't know. I'll try harder next time."

"You better," Michael laughed, "I can't have my girlfriend flunk out of Algebra. They'd kick you off of cheerleading!"

If I had a drink, I totally would've spewed it all over the place. As it was, I just choked. "I'm sorry. What?!"

He just chuckled. "I'm kidding, Mia. Relax." He placed an arm around my shoulders. "You've been so tense lately. Is it because of the baby?"

And that's when it hit me. There was no baby. Michael and I weren't dating. I'm not fantastic at algebra.

It was all a dream. It's so strange, because usually I don't realize I'm dreaming until after I wake up, but I was still there in 'awesome world.'

"What baby?" I asked Michael.

He stared. "The baby that your mom and Mr. G are having? Don't tell me you forgot about that too."

"Oh, yes. Right. The baby." It was hard to concentrate on anything else when it had just hit me that I would eventually have to wake up. And Michael wouldn't be my boyfriend any more. And the last thing he would want to do is make out. I vowed to make the best of it.

We got out of the limo at school and Lilly left, muttering something about me on drugs or whatever. Lilly's stayed the same at least. She always says that when I'm acting like a complete nutcase, which is how I seem to everyone else, I guess.

"Hey, Michael. Come with me for a second," I said, remembering the promise I had just made to myself. He walked with me to the side of the building, out of everyone else's line of vision.

"What is it?" he asked, still looking a bit worried for my sake.

But I just grabbed him and kissed him. Because that really was the best of it.

[So it's all a dream, see? But what'll happen when she wakes up? Hee.]


	6. Thank God

[Four more chapters (including this one). So everyone should start reviewing up a storm. And try to guess who we are!]

I pulled away from the kiss and was relieved to see Dream Michael still in front of me. "Oh, thank God," I breathed.

"Funny," Michael said, resting his forehead against mine they way they always do in movies. "I was just about to say that."

"What? Why?"

"I was getting worried you no longer liked me."

"Not like you? Michael, I've always liked you."

"I know, I just thought maybe you'd stopped." He dipped his head so his lips met mine. "You know I'll always love you, Thermopolis."

I know Dream Michael is a figment of my imagination, and I know he wouldn't be saying it in real life, but can I just tell you how happy I am right now?

"Uh, I love you too, Michael." No point in denying it. If you can't say it to the person you love in real life, at least say it to the person you love in your dreams.

He kissed me again and then dragged my by the hand back up to the school entrance. "Come on," he said. "Or we'll be late."

Who cares? It's not like this will make any difference once I wake up, I'd much rather be taking advantage of Dream Michael while I can. Who knows when I'll be sucked into this world again.

"Let's not," I said, stopping in my path and causing Michael to drop my hand.

"What do you mean?" he asked me.

"I mean, let's go somewhere. Not school. I don't want to go to school today. Let's just find somewhere to be together."

"You mean... skip school?" Michael said it as if I was suggesting we go down

to the city dump and roll around in it. Typical that even Dream Michael is afraid of skipping school.

I looked up at Lars, who was busy pretending to be examining a flower on the bush next to us. "Yeah, why do we have to go to school when we can just...hang out."

The bell had rung while we were around the corner kissing, so there was no one left out the front of the school. Or maybe it was because I didn't want there to be anyone out the front of the school right now, I don't really understand how this dream thing works. But it was just me, Michael and Lars.

"Ok... So what do you want to do?" Michael asked reluctantly.

"I know! Let's go to the zoo!" I love the Central Park Zoo. It's one of my favorite places to go. And I'm hoping that in my dream, they'll be new animals there too.

"The zoo?" Michael looked skeptical.

"Yeah, come on! It'll be fun."

"I dunno, we could get in trouble..."

"Come on... You know you want to..." I tried my best to look all seductive and sexy, but by the look Michael was giving me I think I came off as scary and unsexy. Great.

"I really don't want to miss school," he said, standing his ground.

"It's only one day! Live dangerously for once! It'll be worth it, I promise."

"Ok," he gave in finally. "Let's go."

"Yes!" I threw my arms around his neck and squealed in his ear.

He grabbed my hand and we ran down the entrance stairs. Lars struggled to keep up.

We reached the zoo in record time. Usually it takes ages to get there, but in dreamland things happen faster I guess.

The first place we went was the penguin house. It's one of my favorite places to go. Conveniently there was no one else in there, so we sat down on one of the benches against the wall and cuddled.

"How long have we been together, Michael?" I asked him, snuggling against his chest.

"Forever. At least in my dreams, anyway." Maybe this is his dream? Am I in Michael's head? No. Why would Michael be dreaming about us being together?

"Um, yesterday it was one hundred and thirty six days, so today it's one hundred and thirty seven."

"You know the exact day? Whoa, devoted much?" I'm impressed. He must think it's so bad of me that I don't know.

"To you? Always. Even before we started going out. Remember the time you stayed over at our house and there was only one Poptart left in the morning and I let you have it? It was because I loved you."

Do I remember it? It was only last week!

"And the time you fell asleep on the couch while watching movies with Lilly, I covered you with a blanket. Lilly just left you there." I thought Lilly covered me with that blanket.

"That was you?" I squeaked.

"Uh huh. I couldn't exactly have you getting sick, now could I? Not if there was something I could do about it. And then there was the time you woke up and Lilly had left, so I spent the day with you. That was one of the best days of my life. We went to Central Park and watched the acrobats. They'd never performed in New York before, and you loved it."

I didn't remember that, but I was suddenly reminded of something else. The time Michael sang 'Shirtless' to me.

"Michael, did you write that song about anyone in particular?"

He looked at me like I was crazy. "What song?"

"Shirtless. Is it about anyone?"

He raised an eyebrow at me. "What, did you forget all of a sudden? It was about you, remember?"

No. I don't remember anything.

"It was? I'm sorry. I'm having trouble remembering things."

He squeezed me tighter. "That's ok. I'll remember things for you. So long as you never forget that I love you, and that I always have and always will."

"I won't. I promise."

"Come on," he said. "We've been here long enough. Isn't there something else you want to see?"

I smiled shyly at him. "The polar bears?" The polar bears are my absolute favorite. It wouldn't be a trip to the zoo without saying hello. Even in my dreams.

He grinned. "I knew it. Let's go. But then maybe we should go back to school. We shouldn't miss the whole day."

Spoil sport.

[You likey? Reviewy!]


	7. Some Things Are Private

A/N: Woohoo. Two more chapters after this.

Michael and I finally got back to school, around 5th period.

"There's really no point in going inside," I said as we stood before the doors, which kind of seemed a little foreboding. Lars had already hurried inside, though, muttering something about Wahim getting his dirty paws on Mademoiselle Klein. Personally, I have no problem with Lars shirking his bodyguard duties, but I made a mental note never to mention it to my dad.

"Huh. I guess you're right. Dammit, Mia, you've infected me with your delinquency!" Insert a giggle from me. "Do you want to go hang out at the loft?" I shrugged and nodded, always eager to miss more school. We took the subway, which was oddly fun, as I haven't really done it since I found out I was a princess and all. He loosely held my hand the whole way, looking down when other people passed, though.

"Do you not want to ride with me?" I asked quietly. I mean, it had to be embarrassing.

"What? Where'd you get an idea like that?"

"Because I'm a princess and a freshman and…" I didn't say flat-chested, as I felt that would be just a bit too much sharing.

"No. Mia, you know I don't really like PDA. I told you, some things are private."

"Oh."

"'Oh' is right. Now don't go thinking I'm embarrassed by you or anything. That's ridiculous. I love you." He added the last part in a whisper, as this large blonde family was passing by just then.

I blushed and Michael squeezed my hand. Dream Michael is the coolest guy ever. Except for Real Michael, because Real Michael is obviously too cool to love me. Other than that, though, Dream and Real Michael were just alike. I guess it's just my little fantasy, though, that Michael Moscovitz actually wants to kiss me and hold my hand and skip school with me. Le sigh.

I fumbled with the keys, but finally got the door open. "Hello?" Michael called around the apartment, just to be dramatic. He knew my mom was at the studio. "Nobody's home."

"Oh, my stars," I giggled. "Maybe you should go then."

"Oh, no, Thermopolis," he said, wagging a finger, "Don't think you can get rid of me that easily."

"Darn," I said, "Well, I guess we'll just have to find something to pass the time."

"I've got a suggestion," he laughed.

"We'll put it up to a vote."

"All right, all for kissing: say aye!" But he didn't give me a chance to respond before his mouth found mine. I wasn't too upset, though.

Michael went to the kitchen for drinks and came back to where I was sitting on the couch to hand me a Sprite. "There was a message for you on the answering machine."

"Oh, yeah? What'd it say?"

He gave me a strange grin. "Your mom and Mr. G have gone to visit his parents. They'll be back tomorrow and said Lars would be coming to sleep on the couch."

"Ugh. Lars on my couch?"

"Maybe I'll stay instead. But not on your couch, oh no."

"Where then?" I laughed and popped open my Sprite.

"Well, I was thinking I'd stay in your bed…" He arched an eyebrow. "And you can sleep on the couch. After all, you're supposed to give your guests the best."

"Yeah, I never heard that rule."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"Then I guess next time you spend the night at our apartment, you can just sleep in the bathroom or something. And no coming into my room late at night for make-out sessions any more. The only reason I obliged before, you know, was because I was a strict believer in the guest rule."

"Okay, fine. You can sleep in my bed."

"Yeah?"

"But I'm not sleeping on the couch."

He chuckled. "I wouldn't dream of it."

I wouldn't either.

I called Lars and had Michael do a Mr. G impression, informing him that he wouldn't need to come over, as my mom and Mr. G had been kept in town because of the traffic. Michael kept his hand over my mouth as I talked, as I was laughing like a hyena.

"You could so never be a secret agent," he said after he had hung up, shaking his head.

"Darn, there goes my big dream, up in smoke. I always wanted to be Mrs. James Bond."

Michael laughed. "And I think he always wanted to be Prince James Renaldo."

Michael Renaldo sounds way better. A second later, Michael voiced the same thought aloud, right before kissing me.

I made a deal with him, after bickering for seven minutes: we watched Pretty Woman first, Michael seeming a bit more interested in nuzzling my neck than watching big-haired Julia Roberts, though. But as much as he bitched and moaned as I put A Little Princess in the VCR, he was on the edge of the seat by the middle. "But Mrs. Minchin can't do that!" he moaned. "That's so goddamn cruel."

"Tell me about it."

"No one better fuck with my princess like that." He sat back on the couch with his arm around me. "Ready to go to sleep? We do have school tomorrow."

"Ugh. School. Fine, then. But let's finish the movie first."

"If you want to…" I laughed at his nonchalant act. He was way more into it than I was.

I came out of my shower and flopped down beside Michael on the bed. His hair was still damp from his own shower, and I brushed it away from his face. "I kind of love having you as a boyfriend."

His face broke out into a smile. "Well, I love _you_."

I tried to smile but it was hard. Michael wouldn't love me for much longer. At least not after I woke up. I'd enjoy tonight, though. Not in that way, of course. But in the way of laying in Michael's arms as he whispered corny jokes into my ear. He fell asleep before I did, his head lolling against my shoulder, but I found it hard to drift off. How much longer could this all last? I leaned my head against his chest and closed my eyes, hoping that maybe this dream could go on forever.

I was in the school hallway, but instead of the dozens of people pushing past me like there usually was, I saw no one. It freaked me out, to say the least, but before I could start panicking, I spotted Michael at the end of the corridor. "Michael!" I called.

He waved, wearing a lopsided grin on his face. I started to walk towards him, but he didn't seem to be getting any closer. "Michael?" I yelled again, now beginning to panic.

"Hey, Mia!" he said, still smiling. He was getting farther away. I broke into a run and he started calling my name again and again, louder and more urgent. "Mia. Mia!"

My eyes flew open to see Michael Moscovitz standing in the doorway of the Moscovitzes' den, looking quite concerned. "You okay, Thermopolis?"

There was no kiss or hand squeeze to accompany his greeting. "Uh huh," I nodded, but I was so not okay. Not in the least. Because it had finally happened. The dream was over.

[The story's not over yet. Liked it? Review.]


	8. Paranormal Twenty Questions

Real Michael stood before me. He's saying something, but I'm not listening. All I can think about is how nice it had been in my dreamland. In dreamland I could have gotten up and smoothed down that cowlick of hair that's sticking up on top of his head. I could get up and stick my face in the side of his neck and inhale. I could walk over and stick my tongue down his throat. Although since I just woke up I think I'd hold off until after brushing my teeth. I wouldn't want to scare the fantasy away.

"... So she asked me to keep you company today," Michael finished.

"Wait, what?" I asked, snapping back to reality, although rather reluctantly.

"I said Lilly had to go out. She was meeting someone about her show.

She won't be back until much later."

"Oh. So you're going to stay with me today?" I asked, my spirits lifting slightly.

"Yeah, unless you just want to go home, of course."

"No, no. That's okay. So... What do you want to do?" In my head, Dream Michael was saying, "What we always do... make out." But the Real Michael would never say that.

"I dunno. It's nearly lunchtime, do you want to go get some cold sesame noodles?"

"Sure." Not quite the same as Dream Michael's answer, but at least it proves the real Michael knows me, because there's nothing I'd rather eat than cold sesame noodles from Number One Noodle Son.

I dressed and got ready, then I called Lars and had him meet us at the Moscovitz's apartment. I was disappointed to see that Michael had smoothed down his cowlick himself by the time we left. If I can't smooth it down myself then I don't want it smoothed down at all!

We ordered a mixture of everything, including a big plate of cold noodles, and when they arrived we dug in. I can't help but think that if this was my dream, we'd probably be playing footsies under the table. Or we could use our noodles like Lady and the Tramp did in the Disney movie. And because it's a dream it'd work perfectly; the noodle wouldn't break at all like it would if we tried it in real life.

"Is everything okay, Thermopolis?" Michael asked. I guess I haven't been the happiest person to hang out with today.

"I guess so."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

I took a deep breath. "Have you ever had such an intense dream that when you wake up nothing seems right, and you just want to get back into the dream? Like you want to stay there forever?"

"Um, no. Sorry. If you just want to go home to bed and try and get this perfect dream back we can leave."

"No, that's okay," I mumbled. I don't think that would work; I'll never get Dream Michael back.

After a minute it dawned on me what he'd just said. "Oh, Michael, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that I don't want to be here with you, that I'd rather be sleeping. Really, I do want to be here with you." More than he knows.

"Okay, whatever. I know I'm nothing compared to this fantasy you want to get back. What was it about anyway? Justin Baxendale?"

"Ha! Yeah right. No, it was just..." I looked into his eyes and almost lost myself. "... Perfect," I breathed. Half an hour later we left Number One Noodle Son and were just walking around.

"Um, Mia, where are we going?" Michael asked after a few minutes of aimless walking.

"I dunno. I just feel like walking. Hey, why don't we go to the Central Park Zoo!"

"Okay," he agreed.

But we never made it all the way to the zoo. We go to the park and saw some kind of circus act was performing. So we stayed and watched it. "Look at that girl!" Michael cried, pointing to a girl juggling fire sticks on top of a tall pole, being held up by a clown on a unicycle.

Watching these people perform such tricks made me think for a second I'd been transported back into my dream. Because it seems highly unlikely that people can do this in real life, yet here they are, doing it. Living the dream.

Living the dream... wait a second! Something Dream Michael said to me came flooding back to me.

I ran over to the big sign at the front of the crowd. It read:

_Paulie's Acrobats_

_Free Show every hour, on the hour_

_First and only time in NYC!_

First and only time in New York City? Hadn't Dream Michael said something about one of the best days in his life having been spent with me at Central Park seeing acrobats that hadn't performed here before? With me!

"Hey, you having fun?" Michael came up to me. I resisted the urge to jump into his arms.

"Yeah, it's great. One of the best days of my life," I said pointedly.

"Good."

"Hey, Michael, can I ask you something?"

"Yeah?"

"Remember last week, when I stayed over, and there was only one Poptart left, and you gave it to me? Why did you give it to me?"

"Well," Michael thought for a second, as if coming up with the best possible answer. "You looked hungry, and I didn't want you to set Lars on me for eating the last Poptart."

"Oh," his answer seemed logical enough. Damnit.

We watched the acrobats for a little longer, but then they finished and we had to leave. We got an ice cream from a vendor and walked back to his apartment so I could get my things.

"Michael, do you believe in fate?" I asked him as we walked.

"I dunno. Sometimes, but then at other times I think it's all bullshit."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. Do you believe that people can see the future?"

"What is this? Paranormal twenty questions or something?"

"No, never mind."

"Thermopolis, you've been weird all day, humor me. What's going on?"

To tell, or not to tell. Maybe I can tell but not mention him.

"Well, my dream last night. It seemed so real, and I just thought, okay _hoped_, that maybe it was telling me some stuff about the future."

Michael stared at me. "What exactly was this dream about?"

"Um, just this friend I've known for a long time, was sort of more than a friend... and everything was different. It was set in the future."

"Really? Well, you never know, Thermopolis, maybe it was a vision." He winked at me as he stepped through the door of his apartment.

God, I hope so.


	9. A Crush of the Ladies

[Final chapter. Woohoo!]

Michael avoided me like the plague for the next week, or at least it seemed like it. I had been in the dream too long. It was hard greeting Michael in the limo every morning without a kiss or a hug. I missed him, and I had never really had him.

It was getting annoying, though. All my thoughts were on Michael, all the time. It wasn't like the crush I had had on Justin Baxendale (which, by the way, was long forgotten), because I knew Michael, and I loved him for everything he was, not just how he looked. Though that didn't hurt.

"Mia? Mia?" I turned to see Kenny, who was watching me anxiously as I daydreamed in Biology. Mrs. Sing had left to go watch Oprah in the teacher's lounge.

"Huh? What?"

He smiled. "You kind of spaced out."

"Oh. Sorry."

"It's no problem. But I was wondering…"

"Yeah?" I dug through my purse for Tic-Tacs.

"Do you want to go to the movies with me tonight?"

The digging halted completely and I looked up at Kenny. "Um, okay."

What?! What is my problem? Okay, Kenny's nice and all. But I have a boyfriend!

A dream-boyfriend.

I am so pathetic.

But he looked so happy that I had accepted. It was then that I remembered that we had apparently dated in the dream. Was everything from that going to come true? I guess Michael was right, I am a visionary.

But does that mean he really loves me?

I'm so crossing my fingers.

Until he comes clean, though, I guess I'm going out with Kenny.

Crap.

The date was pretty uneventful. I mean, Kenny held my hand, and his was even sweatier and grosser than mine. Ew.

And he ordered me a meatball po-boy. I practically had to shout at the waitress as she went back to the kitchen. And then I nicely explained to Kenny that I'm not a fan of eating animals, to which he apologized profusely and changed his own order to a salad.

After the 'date', was over, we took the limo back to the Moscovitzes', where I was spending the night. He walked me up the door.

"So, uh, bye," I said, reaching for the knob. But before I could get inside, Kenny moved forward, fast as lightning, and managed to press his lips against my cheek, despite me jerking back.

"Bye," he smiled. I offered up a wobbly smile, waving until the elevator doors closed. I then breathed a sigh of relief. "Hot date, huh?"

I turned to see Michael leaning against the doorframe, shirtless as usual.

"Hot? No. Only his breath." Michael chuckled, but I felt a little ashamed of myself for making fun of Kenny.

"Lilly! Mia's here," he called, coming to sit on the couch beside me. Lilly entered the room and sat on the loveseat.

"What're you doing here, dorkus?" she asked Michael.

He shrugged. "I wanted to hear how Mia's little date with Showalter went."

I gave them all the gory details and Michael looked more and more amused as the tale continued. "What a dork," he laughed as I described the movie.

After I was done, Lilly turned to her brother, who was wiping his eyes and chuckling.

"You think you could do better?" she said, looking annoyed.

Michael smirked. "Definitely."

She smiled, folding her arms across her chest. "Tell us then, what would _you _do if you were on a date with Mia?"

His smile faltered. I waited anxiously. "Seriously?" he asked, chewing on his lip.

"You said you could be a better date than Kenny. Prove it."

He swallowed a little, his cheeks slightly pink. Then he turned to me, his face now masked over. "Fine. We'd go out to dinner, right? I'd get something with a lot of meat, like sausage pizza or whatever. And you…well, you'd get a salad or something vegetarian. I know how you are about that. Then I guess I would take you to a movie. My choice, until you begged me to bring you to the latest formulaic romantic comedy, during which I would try not to gag, for your sake."

I smiled at him, and he blushed for some reason. "Well," Lilly cut in. "What else? You were the one who said Kenny acted like a dope during the movie. How would you handle it?"

When had this turned into the Spanish Inquisition? I could almost see Lilly as one of those private investigators interrogating the suspect under a hot, white light. Michael was almost sweating himself. But he continued, seeming to enjoy himself a bit more. "I'd put my arm around you, like so. And maybe fall asleep because the movie you picked out was so stupid and boring."

I whacked Michael playfully in the stomach and he chuckled. "After that, we'd come back to the apartment to hang out. You'd probably be spending the night here like you always do…" I didn't comment on the fact that Michael's arm was still around me. It was too comfortable. Lilly didn't even have to prompt him this time, he just kept going, a little grin creeping across his face. "I'd get us some ice cream and we'd go watch a _real_ movie in the den, like Rushmore. We'd probably get all cuddled up and comfortable…" I tried to ignore the fact that Michael Moscovitz, _real _Michael Moscovitz used the word 'cuddled', more specifically, cuddling with me. "But then you would come in, Lil, begging for attention or whatever."

Michael wasn't looking at me any more, just kind of staring off into space. "And she would bark at you to follow her, Thermopolis, and walk out of the room. You would turn to me before you left, though, and I'd wrap my arms around your waist, pulling you close to me. And you'd smile up at me and say something about having to go, but I wouldn't listen. I'd just press my lips up against yours, until you forgot about helping Lilly edit…until you forgot everything but...but..._kissing me_."

He still had that dreamy look in his eye, his arm curled around my shoulders. My heart was pounding as I wondered how acceptable it would be for me to grab Michael and kiss him right then. Suddenly, though, it seemed as if I were back in the dream. Back when Michael loved me.

Except I was fully awake, and he did love me. I was sure of it.

"You win," Lilly said, breaking the pregnant silence. "I have to admit that you'd probably be a better boyfriend for Mia than Kenny."

Most definitely. But Michael blinked several times, and looked at us both as if he'd just realized we were there. He yanked his arm back and ran a hand through his hair, muttering to himself. "I've got to go," he said in a strangled voice, hurrying out of the room. I heard his door slam and turned back to Lilly.

She was smiling at me strangely. "Don't you think you should follow him?"

She knew. She just had to. But had she known all along? Or had she been as clueless and stupid as me? I didn't have time for these silly questions. I jumped off the couch and walked to Michael's room, wringing my hands nervously as I ran through possible conversation starters in my head.

I knocked on his door and after a few seconds, he opened it a crack. "Oh. What do you want?"

"Can we, uh, talk?"

"No," he said, slamming the door.

But I persisted. "Michael!" I called, leaning against the doorway. "Please let me in. Please?"

God, I sounded desperate. But I was. Very much so. I turned around and slid down to the ground, just as the door opened. I fell backwards, looking up to see an upside-down Michael Moscovitz. Still beautiful.

I rolled over and stood up. "So, what's so urgent, Thermopolis?"

I stared at him, wondering how he could've changed back to annoying and uncaring so quickly. "Back in the living room, when you said…"

He cut me off, sensing what direction I was headed in. "Yeah, that was just to prove to Lilly that I'm better than Kenny."

"Why'd you have to prove it?"

I'd caught him off-guard and he looked down at the floor and shrugged. "I like proving Lilly wrong. It's fun."

"Oh," I said softly, wondering if maybe I had been wrong. I was turning to go when Michael spoke again.

"Did it sound like a good date to you?"

"Very," I smiled and his lip twitched.

"I'll keep it in mind, then." He opened his mouth and closed it then, before speaking again. "You know, for my other many girlfriends. Wherever the Moscovitz goes, there's always a crush of the ladies."

"Right," I laughed, my stomach plunging. His fingers brushed mine, and tingles shot through my arm. "You know that dream I was telling you about?"

"The one where you were dating your friend?" he said almost immediately, leading me to wonder how much he'd thought about it.

"Yeah, that's the one. You know who the friend was?"

"Kenny?" he suggested. I slipped my hand into his and laughed.

"Not a chance."

Our eyes locked and he shook his head. "B-but, no. You're joking, aren't you?"

"I wouldn't joke about this," I said, giggling nervously.

He swung our hands back and forth, and he watched them, as if being hypnotized by a pendulum. "So…"

"_So_…"

His face broke out into a gigantic grin and he stepped closer. "I might be bad at this," he laughed, before kissing me.

But it was even better than anything that had happened in the dream. And definitely anything that had happened with Josh Richter. Because it was real, a dream come true.

[So did anyone guess who we are? I'll tell you who we are: we're fantastic. And oh-so-humble. Haha. I'm just kidding. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this. There will be another story from Schwartzibrow (not the wonderful two-piece band that plays a delightful mixture of bluegrass and rap, but the authors) coming your way shortly. I hope.]


End file.
